


Did It Hurt

by kingofokay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingofokay/pseuds/kingofokay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting drunk is obviously a good initiation rite to becoming human, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did It Hurt

Dean had a very specific goal for the evening when he broke into the liquor cabinet. 

Cas has been freshly human for nearly a month now, settling into routine, making a home in the bunker beneath the hill. But as far as Dean was aware - and he’s pretty goddamn sure he’d be aware - Cas has yet to get well and truly wasted. What a travesty.

It had been a solid plan. He’s not quite sure what had gone so terribly wrong.

It’s two in the morning and ancient reruns of I Love Lucy are flickering on the television, though nobody’s really paying attention. Sam passed out cold about an hour ago, near-empty bottle of bourbon tucked between his arm and the back of the couch, sasquatchian snores competing with the television’s low volume.

It was supposed to be simple: Cas was supposed to get drunk off his ass, and Dean was supposed to reap wild amusement from the situation. But apparently the was-angel holds his liquor far better than Dean was expecting, because he’s quiet and collected, fingers curled around his glass of scotch resting light on his knee, glazedly watching the television.

Dean, on the other hand. Well, he’d lost count after he drained the first whiskey bottle, and everything’s gone a bit wobbly since then. His most recent development is tiny, intermittent spats of giggles, followed up by not-entirely-subtle sidelong looks cast in Cas’ direction.

Without warning, Dean surges over onto Cas’ half of the couch, though the movement’s too quick and leaves him reeling for a moment. Cas is non-nonplussed by the sudden invasion, gaze lazily drifting over to arch a brow at Dean.

"Hey. Hey-… hey Cas," Dean slurs, trying his damnedest at smoldering. It must not quite hit the mark, because now both of Cas’ brows are raised. “Did-… did it hurt when you ran around my head all day.”

Cas blinks slowly, and Dean’s brow furrows into a frown. “Fuck. Hang on. That’s-…” He shakes his head and instantly regrets it. “Nghh. I meant. I meant… D’you have a map, ‘cause I lost my phone number.”

Cas’ confusion is practically a tangible thing. “Dean-“

"Sshhh," Dean slurs, mashing a poorly-aimed finger against Cas’ lips, which certainly succeeds in drawing him up short. Dean leans in as the offending finger slips to trace an uneven line across Cas’ collarbone, and his voice is much softer this time when he mumbles, "Cas-…"

Before promptly passing out.

Which leaves Castiel with two passed out Winchesters, one of which is now a heavy weight on his chest, and the tinny laugh track accompanying Lucille Ball’s antics. Sometimes the path of least resistance is simply to let yourself fall asleep.


End file.
